


My Prince

by Morpheel



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Coping, Depression, Flowers, Hurt/Comfort, I don't even know how to tag this, It's just sad okay, Loss, M/M, graveyards
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-12-26 22:33:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12068313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morpheel/pseuds/Morpheel
Summary: Eduardo visits Jon's grave a year after the incident, and tries to come to terms with his passing.If only it was that easy.





	My Prince

**Author's Note:**

> Vent fic. Wrote this all while bawling my eyes out, so yeah. Hope it's still good.

_“You can’t talk to me that way, I’m a prince!”_

_“Yeah, a prince alright. More so a royal pain in my ass.”_

Eduardo could still remember his and Jon’s petty little squabble a year and three months ago, so clear as day in his head. It was as if it were just yesterday that the smaller man adorned himself in a beach towel and paper crown.

It was the stupidest fucking thing he had ever seen.

Some visit to a historic museum had it in Jon’s mind that he could be a prince, that he could just balance a few books on his head and call himself royalty. Dumbass completely skimmed over the passage that the real prince had tricked him into getting the keys to escape using that method. Eduardo couldn’t stop laughing about it for the next few days.

It was only when he caught the idiot crying in the bathroom that Eduardo got the sense that he should tone it down on the insults. At least all it took was an ice cream cake and a grumbled apology to get the guy smiling again.

That smile.

He’d do anything to see it again.

No matter which way he shifted against the cold slab against his back, Eduardo couldn’t get comfortable. There was something morbid about sitting amongst bittersweet reminders of the bones resting beneath them, a simple engravement finalizing an entire lifetime of memories. No matter how much whiskey he tried to drown himself in, it never made the reality around him any easier.

Jon was fucking gone.

Perhaps it was the realization that the little twerp was never going to chime in with his stupid one liners or sub-par intelligence ever again- or the fact he was so fucking young- but no matter how he tried to come to terms with it Eduardo never was able to move on. At least not like how Mark has.

He found himself choking back a disgusting sob when the world around him came crashing down once more, his head slamming back against the tombstone he didn’t even have the heart to look at. It was only when he stared deep at the finalizing text of Jon’s being that he realized how shitty he really was to the guy.

He looked up to Eduardo like a clergy would their priest.

He worshipped the ground he walked on, fitting his footsteps into each mold left behind by his friend. He was like an bothersome Chihuahua that wouldn’t leave his side. Eduardo had always thought it to be the most annoying aspect about the guy.

But now he knew better.

He wiped the mess his running nose left behind on his sleeve, willing his head to the side as the blue flowers he had brought with him slammed to the ground with his palm. Every single month, he would come back. Every single goddamn day he’d show up, say a few insults to the gravestone, and try to stifle his own boiling self-hatred for another day to come.

He just didn’t have any room left.

Why couldn’t he have seen the rocket coming. Why couldn’t he will his fucking legs to move quick enough to move Jon out of the blast, to freeze time and stop the last few grains of sand from falling out of a shattered hourglass. He had his superpowers still, for fucks sake.

He slammed his head back on the gravestone once more.

It was exactly one year since The Incident, and nothing felt okay. It’s really been a year since he’s had Jon at his side, his own personal bundle of energy bouncing around. The cheerful little dork who would somehow manage to make light of a situation, even when the other two members of the household could be in the worst of moods.

It’s been just a single year and Eduardo felt as if there was nothing left in his chest to scoop out and crush. He felt like a dead man sometimes, walking past an empty room gathering dust. Worst of all was that neither of them had the heart to take down his old decorations and furniture. It was like the ghost of Jon flittered about them, haunting memories etched deep into his head.

Sometimes he forgot he wasn’t there. He could walk past the room, grumble out a good morning- before catching himself and burying himself in a bottle for the rest of the day. It was easier that way.

But this really was it, wasn’t it? A year ago, on this very day, Jon left this world with the most pathetic of last words. Typical.

Eduardo threw the bottle in his hands against the great oak tree Jon had been buried against, watching the glass shatter in a way similar to his heart had. Hell, at least that bottle didn’t have to keep existing knowing that the one stupid, insignificant, little nerdy fucking IDIOT it had always ragged on was the best thing to have ever happened to its pathetic, worthless existence.

The brunette could only tilt his head back when the beginning drizzle of rain began to settle about his body, soaking through his clothes with an icy chill. Thunder clapped out from the distance, a warning for an eminent storm approaching. Yet Eduardo already knew there was no way he could leave this spot.

He just huddled in as the rain picked up in frequency, his hands tucked into his hoodie pockets and fiddling with the one item that tied him to his regret for the longest of times. It seemed only symbolic to give it to Jon a year after he was ripped from him.

Eduardo knew he’d have to face the grave eventually. It was with a heavy heart that he withdrew the little metallic crown from his pocket, the weight of it heavier than his regrets as green eyes stared down at the etchings of Jon’s birth and death before him. He traced the divots of the numbers slowly, having to look away when he reached the final date that reminded him just why he was here. “Say something,  you idiot.”

He didn’t even recognize his own voice at this point, so laden with guilt as his free hand came up to clutch the head of the tombstone with a crushing grip. He rested his forehead on the stone, the tears blurring his vision mixing with the rain trickling down his miserably wet head. “Speak to me…”

He only tilted his head up to read the simple quote of “something” etched into the very bottom of the stone, an attempt to lighten the severity of the situation. It wasn’t funny. It was never funny to Eduardo, not when he felt like he was the reason this good kid was dead.

Died in his arms, for fucks sake.

He could still feel the ghosting sensation of blood soaking through his sleeves, the color from Jon’s face draining as that gorgeous smile left his features for the very last time. It sounded like he was choking on his own blood when he spoke, so pained but just wanting the last memory of his existence to be a lighthearted departure.

It was just like the little fucker.

Eduardo was lifting the crown up with shaking fingers, holding it up as if presenting it to an invisible audience. “You’re a fucking idiot.” His voice cracked at the end of the statement, gingerly placing the crown down at the very top of the stone. It sat almost perfectly on the gentle slope of the granite, not even budging from the gusting wind picking up around him.

The storm was right above him as Eduardo fell helplessly to his knees, clutching the stone slab that buried his friend with a deathly tight grip. He couldn’t stop the choking sobs from leaving him, the weight of his guilt finally eating him alive.

He had meant to give him the crown as an apology, place it atop his head just to see the light of that smile once more. Tell him he was a prince, that he really could be anything that he wanted to be. Yet his pride spoke louder than his guilt, and he had tucked the stupid little novelty item to the back of his closet.

Jon couldn’t be anything more than a skeleton sitting in a fucking box, by now. It must have been the delirium kicking in that had Eduardo fighting the urge to just dig him up once last time, pray that miraculously his flesh still sat on his bones. See that peaceful expression that rested across his expression even in death.

He wanted to put the crown on his head, to have those deep blue eyes staring up at him with that adoration he had known the man felt for him this entire time.

But instead Eduardo was jostled from his thoughts by a gentle hand resting on the side of his shoulder, head tilting up to stare at the ever concerned expression of Mark before him. The man had settled his demons long ago, already having visited Jon’s grave earlier that day instead of the dipping sunset that Eduardo chose to visit.

“Eduardo.” Mark had begun, tone gentle as he tried to pull his friend out of the mud. “It’s time to come home.”

As much as he didn’t want to leave, he knew it was far too late for him to be out anyways. The sun had dipped below the horizon a long while ago, casting eerily spreading shadows along the grave and ushering a deep chill throughout his body that not even the rain could compare to.

He could only nod as he accepted the other’s help, smoothing down his sopping wet button down. He could see the headlights of Mark’s car at the very entrance of the graveyard, wondering to himself if he came the second the rain started. He knew Eduardo wouldn’t leave otherwise.

The two shared a tense moment just staring down at their old friend’s grave, Mark fitting an umbrella comfortably between them as Eduardo let his head fall onto the other’s shoulder. Mark was the only man Eduardo allowed to know how badly he was hurting.

“I think he’d be happy.” Mark suggested, eyes fitting over the albeit crushed flowers and cheap crown. Even if the gesture would be strange to anyone else, Eduardo was biting back a bitter chuckle. “Of course he would have been. Could give the kid dandelions and he’d put em in a vase and not shut up about them.”

At least they could share a quiet laugh together, even as Mark tried to subtly steer Eduardo away. They had to go now, before the inevitable break down hit once more. Only god remembers the horrendous stages of grief Eduardo had gone through the very day of his death.

They turned their back on the grave after the silence stretched on, Mark gently guiding him down the gravel path towards the exit. Each step felt mechanical, automatic- something that he’s gone through the motions of many many times before. It was like clockwork.

But a sudden rush of warmth moved through Eduardo’s body, startling him. Where a deep aching chill had sat earlier rested a burning fire, idly lighting his chest and leaving him confused by the sudden change. He felt the very same warmth wrapping about his body in such a gentle embrace, gluing him to the spot as the tears blossomed anew in his eyes. He felt this before.

It was as if Jon’s arms had snugly fit themself tight around his form once again, the feeling so vivid compared to the auditory and hallucinations that plagued his subconscious since the incident. He swore he could smell that undertone of blueberry body spray he had worn obnoxiously all the time.

Mark seemed to catch Eduardo’s sudden hesitation, frowning at the way the man turned around to stare at the grave as if visited by a ghost. Ever since Jon’s death, Eduardo swore he could see him. Hear him. It was deeply concerning, so he was quick to try and grab Eduardo’s hand once more.

“Eddie…you know he isn’t there, right? The therapist is right. He’s not there.” Mark spoke, but knew he wasn’t getting past Eduardo’s subconscious. He was locked into place, head tilted towards the gravestone as his features scrunched up like a man who had just seen a ghost.

Which he was.

Because to Eduardo’s vision, he could see him. Jon was sitting on the gravestone with that beautiful smile on his face, the crown perched perfectly atop his head. His apparition was waving to him. No words were spoken between them as Eduardo swallowed harshly, before allowing himself to slowly turn away when Mark spoke to him.

“Let’s get out of here.” He spoke, tone broken and small as Mark finally was able to drag him away from whatever vision he was seeing. From there it was at least easier to usher Edaurdo into the back seat of his car. The duo said nothing as Eduardo’s head leaned heavily on the glass, eyes fixated on the passing graveyard as rain pattered against the window.

Jon wasn’t there. He wasn’t real, just a figure of his imagination giving him the false sense of hope that some form of his dearest friend remained on this earth. It was quite common, the therapist reassured him. In time the hallucinations will dissipate when you come to terms with the loss. If only it were that simple.

Yet sitting deep in the graveyard, resting above his own bones, Jon sat with a bouquet of flowers resting on his lap. He thumbed over the gorgeous colors, a sad smile on his lips. He knew he would never be able to move on at this rate- he had only one tether keeping him to this world. He leaned back against the same spot that Eduardo was resting previously, the crown such a pleasant weight on his head.

Yes, there was no way he would be able to move on. Not when Eduardo still needed him most.

**Author's Note:**

> Like what you read?  
> Just throw me a request or commission or something at morph-writes-shit.tumblr.com/ask  
> idk.


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